Into Each Life
by Grand Phoenix
Summary: The girl spins in front of the house for minutes at a time every day, but Kotoko has never found a reason to confront her, could never muster the motivation to get up, take her by the shoulders and ask, "What do you want from me?" Until now.


**Disclaimer:** All characters and locations belong to their respective characters.

_A/N: Just a little symbolic piece. I honestly can't remember when this came to be, but I do know its inspiration is drawn from two of Kotoko's image songs (whose names I can't translate due to my utter lack in Japanese _). On the other hand, they're both slow and pretty to listen to…._

* * *

**Into Each Life**

* * *

She is spinning every time Kotoko looks out the window, standing away from the house at different angles where she can see her. She frequents the front yard, the driveway and the bus stop shelter, but standing under the streetlamp when the night is young and the sky pure and infinite is her favorite spot.

And once she finds that desirable spot, the girl spins. And spins, and spins, and spins, without a care in the world. Day or night, rain or shine, she will spin to her heart's content.

Kotoko doesn't understand. Why her? What about her brought this girl to her doorstep? Better yet, what did this girl want from her? She had nothing to give but tea; and though the girl accepted the tea, she never moved from the spot from which she stood. She would spin, spin, spin, and the tea in its cup would be gone without ever having been touched.

The girl spins in front of the house for minutes at a time every day, but Kotoko has never found a reason to confront her, could never muster the motivation to get up, take her by the shoulders and ask, _What do you want from me?_

So when she storms down the blacktop in the middle of the night, rainwater cascading silvery curtains all around, she finds the girl spinning beneath a halo of tangerine. Her constant rotations are a red blotch on the dark and the drear, her hair a cyclone of turquoise in a sea of mermaids.

She stops spinning and presents Kotoko a kind smile. "Hallo again! I'm so glad you finally came out! I was starting to get worried!"

Shivering with cold and drenched to the bone, Kotoko asks the girl, "Why do you always visit me? I don't know you, yet you treat me as if we're lifelong friends. I offer you tea, but it appears to me you want something else."

"That's right," says the girl in red. "Your tea's very delicious, but there is something else I want from you."

"And what is that?" Kotoko asks. "What do you want from me, stranger?"

And the girl, she spreads her arms out by her sides, exclaims: "I want you to spin with Hina! I want you to spin, spin, spin and make a wish on your heart's shooting star! Spin with Hina and you'll feel all better!"

"Forgive me, stranger, but I'm afraid I don't understand what you're trying to say."

"You don't have to lie to Hina! Hina knows you're sad and lonely. Hina can see the pain, Hina can hear the whispers. Hina can tell your friends are very, very worried!"

"But how?" says Kotoko, taken aback by the revelation. "How do you know? I've never seen you at school and never on the street. My problems are none of your concern. Why must you persist?"

"Because Hina wants to help, and wherever Hina goes help is always needed! You're no exception! Hina will help you the way she knows how, so spin with Hina. Spin, spin, spin and just let go!"

"Spinning won't solve anything," Kotoko tells the girl. "Listen to yourself."

"Oh, but I am! And Hina, Hina tells me to show you how it's done. Let Hina show you how to spin and I'll do the rest." She takes Kotoko by the arm and pulls her into the tangerine ring underneath the streetlamp, and Kotoko sees she is surrounded by a blinding radiance.

Then she is spinning – slowly, slowly, slowly, like the tiny ballerina who pirouettes when the music box is open and playing – slowly, slowly, slowly, like the record bobbing ceaselessly on the needle. Then she is turning, turning, turning, a globe on its axis orbiting around a tangerine sun, and soon the curtains part and slide away – all around – and it isn't raining anymore, isn't falling in their little circle, and there's Hina – Hina, Hina, Hina – who holds her hands in her own and she's smiling and laughing and singing 'spin! Spin! That's right, that's how you do it! Spin, spin, spin! Spin with Hina!'

And suddenly the night isn't so bleak, isn't so empty and full of horrible dreams, and Kotoko begins to smile, and laugh, and intertwining their fingers together they spin in their little circle where the rain cannot touch them, the dark cannot eat them, and let go – let go the fear, let go the unknown, let go the present and just _be_.

The world stops, and it is just them, dancing and spinning and living in the moment – around and around and around.

When Kotoko wakes the following morning, laying in the bus shelter and shielding her eyes from a sun rising in clear skies, she will wonder why she did not think to go to Hina sooner.


End file.
